Am I Drinking Too Much? A Dad & His Daughter.

This is a true story.

The following is a true story. Am I Drinking Too Much, a Dad & His Daughter?

Geoff Thompson called An Everyday Warrior, “stunning, beautiful.”

Some years ago (and it has never been a secret) after years of controlling abuse from a narcissist father, coupled with incredible pressure (threats of kidnap, torture and murder) and losing everything we owned, I did what many had done before me and hit the bottle.

My behaviour threatened to destroy my family and kill off any hopes of getting back what was ours and so I quit the booze, but I did it in such a stupid fashion that my withdrawal almost cost me my life.

What you read below is a true story from a conversation I had with my daughter Luka and how I tried to be one hundred percent honest when answering her questions. Now a days I enjoy my glass of wine at the weekend, but when you are drinking up to three bottles of brandy a week, plus your wine just to numb the pain, well something is going to give.

This is from An Everyday Warrior, the sequel to From Bullied to Black Belt.

A Dad and His Daughter.

With my training now really hitting the right form and with no alcohol in my bloodstream I surprised myself by being much more relaxed, especially at night. I say surprised because I had only ever been able to relax after a drink or five. Now though, I would retire upstairs at a respectable time with a book and some music to listen to. On these nights I would, more often than not be joined by Luka. One particular night she was a bit quieter than normal, so I asked her if anything was on her mind.

She thought for a minute then just came right out with it. "Do you miss it Dad? Do you miss drinking?"

I put down my book and took off my glasses. “I tell you what I don't miss sweetheart. I don't miss passing out every night. I look at like this; I much prefer going to sleep than passing out and I prefer waking up to coming round.” I watched her as she took in what I said. Then I continued, "I'll tell you a true story love," and as she sat listening, I shared this with her:

"I feel like I have an angel looking out for me, or maybe it's God Himself. You see, when I first realised I was drinking too much I said a prayer as I knew it was starting to worry you all. My prayer had first started something like this.

God, please give me a sign that I am drinking too much. I need to know.

And so, He sent me hazy memories of the night before which I dismissed, justifying to myself that the condition was down to being so tired.

So, convincing myself I hadn't had a sign yet, I asked again. God, I still haven't had a sign. Am I drinking too much?

So again, He sent me arguments with your mum and nights sleeping on the cold floor of the gym. Again, I gave this a line and that line was that we were arguing because we were both under so much pressure after losing all we had worked for.

So still I needed confirmation and I asked again for a sign. So He saw to it that I fell down the stairs which might have killed me. Ahhh! I justified, that was down to a pulled muscle in my legs and cramp in my feet.

So finally I imagined God sitting up in Heaven, head in hands in despair.

Okay Simon. This time I am going to send you dancing chimneys, horrific visions of men giving birth, madmen who want to cut your throat and an Elephant Man who can only communicate by wiggling his head. If this doesn't get through to you that you are indeed drinking too much well, next time we may be having this talk face to face. Do you get where I'm coming from Simon? Finally I got it.”

Luka listened spellbound at my true words. At the end she smiled her beautiful smile and hugged me. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too sweetheart."

"Night. See you in the morning." She gave me a kiss and I watched as she scooted off to her bedroom. Seeing her lovely smile, happy face and feeling her warm hug told me all I needed to know myself about whether I missed being a drunk.

Signed copies of An Everyday Warrior are available at

www.simonmorrell.com/books